


Falling

by Severina



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: 10_fics, Community: 1_million_words, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark Castle.  Belle wanders the grounds.  Rumplestiltskin investigates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sharpiesgal (TigerLily)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLily/gifts).



> Written for LJ's 10_fics community for the prompt 'under', and for sharpiesgal for her bday celebration at LJ's 1_million words.

Belle shivered as the wind gusted beneath the hem of her dress, her thin stockings doing little to protect her legs, and thought longingly of her cloak still hanging on the peg by the kitchen door. She'd intended only to flit down to the berry patch and fetch some ripe gooseberries for a pie, but she'd heard the call of a swallow from a nearby briar and before she'd known it she'd drifted away from the weathered path. She'd not found the swallow, but she'd seen a tiny hummingbird skimming above some early-blooming flowers, and a strange grey lizard-like creature that bustled about on eight tiny legs, and a dark well with a shattered cover that filled her with a strange sense of foreboding and to which she skittered past as fast as she could. She had knelt and run her palm over tufts of freshly sprung grass; eaten a sprig of mint; felt the sun on her face.

Her way now was blocked by a fast-running stream that bubbled and roiled, and she hugged her arms to her chest, shivered again when the wind intensified and a fine mist of icy water coated her face and unbound hair. She was reminded of her nanny scolding her for venturing too close to the sea on wind-swept days, of dire warnings of illness from exposure to the cold water and the blustering winds. Then she shook her head, mentally shrugged off the memory. If she caught a cold, she would warm herself with a blanket and the fire, and drink herbal tea to soothe her throat. And she lived with a powerful sorcerer, did she not? If worse came to worse, she could always ask Rumplestiltskin for a potion to ease her ills. 

Even if he refused – even if she refused to ask – spending an hour in the sunlight was worth any cold she may catch.

"Enjoying yourself, dearie?"

Belle started, her heart beating double-time in her chest before she turned and put her back to the stream. She narrowed her eyes. "Do you _always_ follow me, Rumplestiltskin?" 

"Follow?" He lay a hand on his heart, his expression one of mock hurt. "You act as though I stalk you throughout the day, unwilling to leave you alone for a moment. No no, I'm merely keeping an eye on you. Protecting my investment, as it were. It simply wouldn't do to have my property injured a mere mile from the castle doors, now would it?"

Belle rolled her eyes. She was no more his property than the submerged rocks in the stream or the crisp white snow that still lay in the hollows, and he well knew it. "I'm capable of taking care of myself," she said primly, "and I'm certain there's nothing out here to hurt me. Though there was this well—"

"A twisted ankle, a fall down an embankment. Or dead of exposure from the cold and damp," he interrupted, lifting one talon-tipped finger. "Only I'm sure I've mentioned that you're not supposed to wander from the castle."

"I didn't leave," Belle protested. "I merely went to pick some gooseberries. For a pie."

"I see. And where are they?"

"Hmm?"

"The berries," Rumplestiltskin said dryly. "For the pie."

She had the grace to look abashed. "I… dropped them. You see, I saw a lizard. Or something very like a lizard. It was scaled and grey with—"

"Ah yes, Lord Danvers," Rumplestiltskin said. He wrinkled his nose. "Stay away from him. Nasty temperament." He leaned forward, whispered conspiratorially. "He's a biter." 

"Lord—" Belle blinked. She opened her mouth to enquire as to why Rumplestiltskin would name a lizard, when a second more likely reason for the name came to mind and she closed her mouth abruptly. 

Rumplestiltskin smiled gleefully, clapped his hands together. "Never break a deal with me."

"Duly noted," Belle said around a suddenly dry throat. The wind gusted again, drenching the back of her neck in cold spray from the stream, and she cupped her elbows against the sudden chill. "Well, I… I suppose we should be getting back."

"Oh, you can take a dip if you like," Rumplestiltskin called out.

She snorted out a laugh. "In this weather? Then I would truly catch my death."

"Indeed?"

Belle cocked her head, studying him. She realized suddenly that the wind had died, turning from what was a sharp bite hinting of snow to a mild breeze. A… warm breeze. She spun toward the stream, and where a moment ago the water had churned and been edged with ice now it slipped gently over the rocks and sent forth a fine hint of steam into the air, not unlike the hot springs in the caves back home.

She whipped her head around, knew her eyes were wide with delight, and beamed up at him.

"Well, you wandered all this way," Rumplestiltskin murmured. "May as well enjoy it, hmm?"

He didn't have to ask her twice. Belle quickly knelt to remove her shoes, glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Rumplestiltskin's face was averted before she delved beneath her skirts to unhook her garters and slide her silk stockings from her legs. Then she rushed forward to the bank, unable to hold back a squeal of delight as the warm water covered her ankles. She surged forward until the water nipped at her thighs, spread her arms and twirled in place.

She felt her ankle twist on the rock; the current catch at her dress, weighted and made heavy by the water. She had a moment to gasp out in shock. Then she was under.

Warm water filled her mouth, flooded her throat. She saw – she thought she saw – leering faces shaped from the mounds of lichen and moss, twisted branches turned into grasping claws that clutched at the wet linen of her dress. Bubbling laughter, bitter and dark, filled her ears. She shook her head, pushed upward with her arms and felt something strong and bony clasp her ankle and tug her down to a depth that should not be feasible in the shallow stream. Something slim and slimy twined around her arm before her questing hand could breach the water.

Then she was on the bank, Rumplestiltskin's magic swirling around her as she coughed and clutched at him and spewed dirty water over the front of his jerkin.

She became aware only by degrees that his arms were around her; that he had grasped her shoulders and pulled her tight against his chest before moving her gently away and searching her face; that he was frantically calling her name as she gasped and spluttered. Belle became aware, too, of the tightness of his grip as his fingers curled over her biceps, the rapid beating of his heart against her bosom. The closeness of his body against hers, where Rumplestiltskin had always maintained an arms-length civility.

She blinked up at his face, tight with concern, and managed a queasy smile. "I'm all right."

She wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms, rest her head against his firm chest and breathe in the scent of him. But he blinked at her then, his lip curled as he pushed her away. "This," he snapped, "is what happens when you wander away from the castle!"

Her chin came up at that. "It was you who encouraged me to go into the water!"

"Yes well," he muttered as he scowled at her. "I'm a villain! Clearly you cannot trust a word I say! Lesson learned, eh dearie?"

The weather had turned back to normal as they talked. She was cold and wet, barefoot, and the wind was turning her into an icicle where she stood. She had nearly drowned. Yet Belle put her hands on her hips, forced her teeth not to chatter as she confronted him. "Rumple—" she began just before the swirl of his magic caught her up.

"..stiltskin," she finished before nearly stumbling on the flagstones. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the dim great room, the fire burning in the hearth, the smell of old wood and fresh straw. A quick glance down showed her that her clothes were neat and dry, stockings and shoes replaced; a shaking hand to her head confirmed that there wasn't a hair out of place. She shook her head, turned to find him flitting around the table. "You needn't—"

"You are confined to the castle until further notice," Rumplestiltskin announced. "I'll have no more of those misadventures."

"It was your fault," Belle muttered.

"What was that, dearie?"

Belle sighed. "Yes, Rumplestiltskin."

He waved a fluttering hand in her direction. "Off you go, then. Go… clean something."

Belle couldn't hide a small answering grin. The anxiety coming from him was palpable, the taste of it lingering in the air. Fear of losing her? The thought of it made something inside her tense and tingle, and she reached out to grasp his arm as she passed, felt the tension roiling beneath his skin and wondered if it matched her own. "Yes, Rumplestiltskin," she said softly, "I'll go clean something."

Instead, she went to her kitchen. There she could light a fire in the hearth, sit quietly and think about the warmth of his fingers on her bare arms, his breath against her ear when he held her close, the way his hand shook as he smoothed her wet hair from her brow. There was much to consider. 

She smiled to find a bowl of gooseberries on the table.


End file.
